


Curiosity

by eak_a_mouse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, First Time, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eak_a_mouse/pseuds/eak_a_mouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia remains unsatisfied with the sex she and Jackson have been having. When he ditches her before the dance, she ends up noticing what she's been missing all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fightingtheblankpage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightingtheblankpage/gifts).



> This is a forfeit/belated birthday gift for fightingtheblankpage. It starts with bad sex between Lydia and Jackson, but I swear it ends with a happily ever after.

The first time that Lydia had sex it was because she was curious and it was easy.

It had always been easy. 

Dress like this, wear her hair like that, a bit of makeup and Lydia could make a guy drool with the flick of her eyes, the lick of her lips, a slow sashay down the hallway.

Guys were easy.

The fact that it was this easy to get Jackson into a bed with no parents home was probably the reason her parents had been so determined to provide her with birth control even while they had stubbornly avoided talking about S-E-X. She had plans to stride across home base as it was expected of the most popular girl in school and with all the confidence her brief foray into reproductive physiology had given her. Beyond finding the penis oddly arresting in how very different it was, (After all, Lydia had always been curious.), she was surprised at how the sex itself was frankly unsatisfactory. 

She could have done better with her own hand and maybe a nice vibrator. 

Jackson apparently had been less prepared than she. 

Here she was with her mouth on his dick giving him the best blowjob in his inexperienced, young life. She waited until he was fisting the sheets before she pulled off and wiped daintily at her mouth. With a flourish she grabbed the waiting condom (She was always prepared for anything.) and coyly ripped it open and rolled it down over his straining member. Straddling him, she sank down on his cock, slowly, steadily, painfully. 

It hurt. 

Beneath her, Jackson looked like he might be having a religious experience. She narrowed her eyes and realized that he was probably trying to not prematurely ejaculate. 

Gingerly she tried moving a bit. The friction helped and with textbook rolls of her hips she got the feeling that sex could be worthwhile after all. All she needed was a little bit more. She frowned down at him as he stared avidly at her bared breasts and apparently that was all the encouragement he needed as he fumbled his fingers to the place where they were joined. 

And then completely confused finding her clitoris with pushing a damn button, in a way that sent a shocky jab of pain right through her almost pleasant haze of sensation. 

She had had her mouth around his dick and he couldn’t even get her off properly. 

She grabbed his hand as she awkwardly balanced her weight on the other and guided him to the proper placement of his fingers. But, his hesitant jabs didn’t do much for her anyway even as he panted ever harder.

Finally, she rolled her eyes, added in a few breathy moans for all that she swore she would never be the girl to fake her way through an orgasm.

God, Jackson even had the temerity to ask if it was good for her.

She just punched the pillow underneath her and rolled over in reply. 

He could find his own damn way out.

____

So, the sex wasn’t great, but Jackson was still captain of the lacrosse team and the best guy that this school had to offer. 

She still liked making out at his locker and the looks they got as they walked down the hall and the feel of his hands on her hips and the way they’d cuddle during a movie. He was there when she was bored and for homecoming and for parties and (occasionally) for shopping. They were the power couple of Beacon Hills High and if things weren’t perfect in paradise they were still good.

Jackson was always good about flirting and trying new positions and going down on Lydia just as often as she went down on him. His tongue and fingers might not quite know what to do, but his penis was nice and she’d caught the trick of bringing herself off. If her orgasms were a lot more pedestrian and a lot less starstruck, well, that’s how some things went. 

It was nice to have someone to sleep next to, some nights. 

It was good.

It was enough.

And she didn’t think of wanting much more.

___

Then, of course, Jackson ditched her just in time for the dance.

He might have been a douchecanoe when they were dating, but it was always about perception and never about her. Never to her. 

She imagined it as a set of masks. They could be the people that everyone else wanted, which meant sharpening the claws occasionally and then they could be the couple that snuggled up to watch the Notebook and if she still wasn’t telling him everything that was fine because it wasn’t like Jackson didn’t have his own secrets. That’s exactly what she needed, amnesty for secrets.

Only Jackson broke that understanding with that little scene in the hallway. 

So Lydia starts looking, in a way you don’t in mostly monogamous relationships, at least, not if you want them to be monogamous for long.

___

Only it’s tricky, the way her eyes stray from lacrosse practice (all the boys, ripe for the picking) to wander across the crowd of students and pick out Allison’s hair. 

Or the way her appreciation for that cute dress Allison was wearing translates to watching the sway of the skirt through three different hallways until she ends up at the wrong classroom. (She’s late to class, but then again, she’s Lydia Martin. Class doesn’t start until she gets there.)

Or how the next date she has with a guy from the team is only worthwhile because she can tell Allison all about his awful kissing technique. 

Allison has dimples when she grins.

Allison has a tendency to curl her hair around her fingers when she’s distracted.

Allison has smiles as bright as the sun.

Lydia may be doomed. 

Allison looks so upset at the mall that Lydia can’t help but tell her, “Smile, Allison. Who knows, someone could be falling in love with your smile.” 

Allison rewards her with a brief glimpse of a grin before it’s tucked away. 

Maybe that’s what finally breaks her. That’s she’s willing to do almost anything for that smile and under her breath, she says without thinking,”I think I’ve already fallen in love with it.” 

It might be the kind of comment that she could laugh off, but Allison looks like a deer caught in the headlights. The laughter dries up in her throat and for a moment she’s sure Allison understands exactly what she means. And it’s all wrong. 

Lydia is pushing her way past before she even knows what she’s doing, swiping beneath her eyes all the way. 

Damn it if she’s going to have raccoon eyes on top of everything else. 

___

She ends up hiding in one of the stalls in the women’s bathroom, as cliched as that may be. 

Sniffling, she wipes her nose on a piece of toiletpaper and damns ever letting her mouth run away from her. She thrives on control, on planning every part of her life. God, why did she have to lose control now? 

She’s mid-sniffle when she hears the bathroom door open with a creak. 

“Lydia?” Allison calls out tentatively.

“I’m not here,” Lydia croaks out.

“Yeah, I can hear that,” Allison chuckles and even that’s attractive damn it. “You want to come out and talk about it?”

“No.”

“You know it’s flattering.”

“What?”

“I like that you might like me? Because I might like you.” Lydia can hear Allison’s head gently hit the stall door and she can imagine the exact expression she’s making. It’s the one where her nose twists up, sort of like a bunny, while her eyes get all squinched up. “And there were too many likes in that sentence.”

“Really?”

“Really too many-”

“No, you really might like me?” Lydia feels like everything rests on this question.

“Yeah,” Allison sort of sniffles, and great everyone is crying now. “Yeah, really.”

And like that, it gets easy.

__

They end up going out for coffee and Allison talks about when she first realized she was bi. But, they end up chatting about boys and school and Allison’s family and Lydia’s frequently absent family. It only segues from there into conversations about movies and books and politics and life and it’s somehow perfect.

Coffee somehow turns into dinner and a movie dates and eating lunch together everyday and riding together to school. Kissing and holding hands shyly and movies that were more for makeouts than for watching. It was golden, perfect.

Then Allison suggests a study date with a shy grin on her face, twisting the toe of her boots back and forth nervously. Something more than a study date, then. So, Lydia says yes, just as nervously, hands shaking all the way home.

Somehow they manage to tumble through the front door and giggling nervously head to Lydia’s room. That’s where the nervousness stops or maybe it’s where the nervousness grows too big to maneuver around. Like it’s sucked all of the air out of the room. 

Breathless, their eyes catch, and maybe there’s air in here after all, because Lydia swears there’s a spark between them. A spark that catches fire, a heat that leaves Lydia shaking in its wake. A kiss seems absolutely necessary, lips meeting desperately, hands sliding to hips and up to shoulders and around backs seeking skin. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves someone’s whole body singing. 

Lydia has to break the kiss to simply breathe and laugh at the simple joy that this, this is perfect. A moment when her happiness is too big to keep hidden. Allison seems caught by the same infectious joy, and her arms slung around Lydia’s waist start them swaying back and forth, dancing to the sound of their laughter and the beat of their hearts. 

Their dance ends with Lydia abruptly sitting on the edge of her bed, when the mattress bumps into the back of her thighs. She pulls Allison to lie beside her. Allison reaches down easy as anything and brings their clasped hands to her mouth for a kiss. “And what now?” she asks to their joined knuckles.

“Now there’s whatever you want,” Lydia replies. “Or we could just kiss. I like your kisses. I wouldn’t need anything more.” 

“And if I wanted more?” Allison whispers shyly, looking out from underneath her lashes in a way that Lydia swears is impossible to beat for cuteness.

“I could do that, too,” Lydia whispers back.

With one last kiss to Lydia’s palm, Allison pulls away. Sliding off the bed, she plucks gently at Lydia’s shirt, “Can these come off?”

Lydia nods, and if it’s shy in a way she hasn’t been a day in her life, well there’s a first time for everything. Slowly she shimmies her way out of her skirt, letting that drop to the floor. Allison, with those long legs of hers, lets her skinny jeans join Lydia’s skirt. Lydia longs to touch, to twine her legs between Allison’s, but Allison bites her lip and .plays with the hem of her shirt and Lydia wants to see that shirt on the floor. So, she reaches up, and pulls her own shirt over her head. It’s Allison’s move in this game of dare they’re playing. And Allison could never let a dare go. 

Suddenly, there they are in only bras and underwear and it’s nerve wracking and scary, but Allison is looking like Lydia’s the Mona Lisa, like she’s something precious and gorgeous, and Lydia thinks Allison looks like something divine. Lydia is briefly glad that she thought to wear the matching set with black lace. Allison obviously had a similar idea, because there’s a pattern of rose tracing across her dark blue bra and Lydia follows that pattern with eyes as though she can’t look away. Better yet, Lydia realizes she can touch and still nervous, she crosses the narrow space between them to settle her hands on Allison’s hips, on the soft notches above her hipbones. She idly rubs her thumb back and forth across skin she never thought could be this soft. 

Allison’s eyes close in mute delight and when she opens them, it’s with new determination. She moves her own hands to Lydia’s torso and sweeping upwards to cup Lydia’s breasts gently through her bra. With another grin up at Lydia, Allison moves the cup down and leans forward to lick the nipple she’s revealed with her thumb. Lydia moans in response and grabs for something to hold onto. One hand lands on Allison’s back and the other in her thick, dark hair, holding the other girl to her. God, and Allison is so clever, her lips and tongue on one breast and her hand on the other holding Lydia on a knifeblade of absolute pleasure.

Finally, Allison pulls away and grabbing her hand leads Lydia to the bed. Lydia thinks this is her turn. She urges Allison to lie down and then she kneels at the foot of the bed. "May I?" She asks, a finger and thumb playing at Allison's waistband. Allison nods and then bites her lip and Lydia just has to kiss that mouth. But kissing somehow leads to Lydia nibbling on Allison's neck, Allison's hands in her hair. Her lips trace a path up to the hollow by the delicate curl of Allison's ear and down to the sharpness of Allison's collarbone. She slides the bra straps out of the way as she licks and nips over to the roundness of Allison's shoulder. So gently, she sets her teeth there, and Allison shudders. 

They both fumble jointly to unhook Allison's bra and it's ungraceful and ridiculous, so they laugh, the two of them. And they separate to pull of their tops. And somehow it's even better, this shared moment than the solemn heat they'd been building, because when they come back together now it's all languid exploration of the skin they'd both revealed. 

Lydia's breasts are larger than Allison's and Allison seems fascinated by the weight of them. But Lydia finds Allison's nipples to be so sensitive as Allison alternately pulls her closer and pushes her away, seemingly caught between desire and too much sensation. She can't help it if she allows just the smallest bit of teeth to scrape across the sensitive flesh when Allison squirms so nicely in her arms. 

But finally, Lydia remembers where she'd been going before she was so pleasantly distracted and she presses Allison down to the bed again and slides between her legs. She asks mutely if they're still good, still okay, and Allison nods vigorously and bites her fingers as Lydia slides her underwear down her legs. 

Lydia presses kisses to the arch of her foot and the curve of her calf and the place behind her knee that makes Allison giggle before licking a long stripe up the swell of her inner thigh. And then she's poised at the neatly trimmed triangle of dark hair and the pink of Allison's vagina, pretty as one of O'Keefe's flowers. Allison's hand brushes Lydia's cheek and Lydia blushes at this moment, so intimate and quiet and brimming with possibilities. 

She runs a gentle finger up the already wet folds next to Allison's slit and she smiles as Allison moans in response. Then it only makes sense to lick a parallel path if only to taste. Allison is somehow sweeter than Lydia's own, familiar to her from a thousand nighttime fantasies. Lydia sets a a new rhythm of gentle licks and a finger or two searching for that sweet spot. She increases the speed as Allison becomes more desperate, hands scrabbling, hips arching. Finally, Lydia licks across her clitoris, a thousand nerve endings sensitized by the attention Lydia had been giving everywhere else and Allison breathlessly screams before it slides into a moan. Bucking, she nearly throws Lydia off, before Lydia desperately presses her hips back to the bed and sucks gently to hear Allison scream again, before she slides bone loose to lie quietly. One last gentle lick, no longer hesitant, but familiar and proprietary and Lydia lies beside her, waiting for Allison to catch her breath. 

Allison smiles at her, eyes hooded with lust and satisfaction, like the cat that caught the canary and got the cream all in one day. And it's heady how Lydia can just take her apart and put her back together. Almost like giving Allison an orgasm is better than having sex with Jackson. Somewhere there's a lightbulb going off in the back of Lydia's brain, that this isn't just an Allison thing, but a girl thing because that was flat out the best sexual experience of her life and it didn't involve an orgasm for her. 

At least not yet, because while Lydia's been having a minor sexuality crisis, Allison's got a second wind. With Lydia's enthusiastic permission, Allison slides Lydia's lace panties just far enough down to give her nimble fingers access to where Lydia's already wet. Then she has two fingers right where it feels best, slowly sliding in and out in a way Lydia is sure is meant to drive her insane. Allison just laughs at her frustration and kisses her until Lydia is lost between the heat of her mouth's and the feel of her fingers and the thumb that's started circling her clitoris. Lydia is so close, she feels like a star about to supernova or a volcano waiting to explode if only she had that little bit more. Agitated she tries to make Allison move faster or give her that little bit of more friction. Lydia can feel the vibration of Allison laughing into the kiss before she presses her thumb to exactly where Lydia desperately needs it and Lydia. God, Lydia swears she sees stars. 

It's breathtaking. 

When she’s back with the rest of the world, Allison is there licking her fingers clean like a particularly meticulous feline, like she delivers mindblowing orgasms on a regular basis. Lydia thinks that Allison is frankly amazing and she has no idea why they weren’t doing this sooner.

Allison laughs again at the way Lydia is gaping, open mouthed and Lydia shoves at her shoulder. Allison rolls with it, until she's lying with her head pillowed on Lydia's shoulder and giggling quietly, she blindly grabs for the sheet. With a sigh, Lydia wriggles out of her underwear without displacing Allison and drops it to the floor. Although, frankly, Lydia's not sure if she believes the world outside this bed exists. She helps maneuver the blankets up over them and they both figure out how to slot the two of them together. 

Finally, Lydia turns off the light and kisses the edge of Allison's smile in the dark. She wants to say something corny about how this is the start of something beautiful, but this started a long time ago. No, it's a continuation, and it'll only get better from here. 

Wrapped up in Allison's warmth, Lydia thinks that there'll never be a ceiling for this happiness. That it'll never stop growing. That someday she’ll learn every inch of Allison’s body and every story she has to tell. And if she hasn’t said the words "I love you" out loud yet, well it’s just a matter of time. Time is something they have plenty of. She brushes Allison’s hair away from her face gently and kisses her forehead affectionately. 

And with that Lydia falls asleep and dreams of when she'll wake.

**Author's Note:**

> Posted originally on my tumblr.


End file.
